


Painted Wings

by LaReineBlanche



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 & Broadway) Fusion, Amnesia, Inspired by Anastasia (1997 & Broadway), M/M, No knowledge of Anastasia needed, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Set Between Young Justice Season 1 and Season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaReineBlanche/pseuds/LaReineBlanche
Summary: Post-traumatic retrograde amnesia.The doctors had told him what that meant when he woke up in a white hospital room, confused and alone. Sometimes, the phantoms of his past would haunt him. He would see people flying through the air, hear voices whisperinggood nightinto his ear, and feel congealed blood slipping between his fingers.A week after he had woken up, a bird had alighted on his windowsill, its red-breast stark against the melting winter skyline. He told his nurse to call him Robin. It fit somehow.So, the newly-christened Robin was sent into Mistress Phelmenkoff’s tender care. She was determined to make him a productive member of society even if he didn’t have a social security number.An Anastasia AU featuring Dick as Anastasia, Wally as Dimitri, and Bruce as the Dowager Empress.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Roy Harper, Dick Grayson & Wally West, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper & Wally West
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Painted Wings

_Forgotten things have lost their way  
And Fate’s strings have turned dusty grey.  
But hark! Take note!  
Up in the air,  
They’re all afloat  
On wing and prayer._

* * *

In the hall filled with sharply tailored tuxes and glittering cocktail dresses, lights danced across the ballroom, reflecting off each champagne flute, sequined dress, and patent leather shoe. Mingling socialites sipped serenely while chattering about the latest gossip. False stars of the iced city skyline glinted through the windows, lifeless compared to the vitality of the rich. 

Bruce Wayne watched the proceedings behind a loose smile and a veil of intoxication. He had already made his rounds as host, greeting guests with a hearty handshake. There was a routine that he had set up for these events: enter fashionably late, make a passionate speech, then guilt the most money out of his guests before leaving with a beautiful woman on his arm. But tonight was different. Tonight, Dick was with him. 

Stony cobalt eyes followed the young boy as he chattered with the other kids. Dick had grown in the year since Bruce took him in, but he was still all gangly limbs and elbows. Bruce had worried that he would be overwhelmed by all the people, but the boy took each cheek pinch in stride and was conversing with the other kids comfortably. He even had the ever-stoic Roy Harper smiling. 

“Brucie!” called a feminine voice tinged with honey. A voice Bruce recognized instantly. He turned to Veronica Vreeland with open arms, a pearly grin plastered on his face.

“Ronnie, you look lovely as ever,” he said, taking in her emerald dress and sky-high heels. Her husband—Bruce had forgotten his name—stood sheepishly beside her, fisting a wine glass with white fingers. 

“You’re such a charmer,” she replied with a saccharine smile. Turning to her husband, she said, “Michael, why don’t you grab me something to drink?” She returned her attention to Bruce before waiting for a reply, and the other man slunk off towards the bar. “Magnificent party, by the way. Very on-brand for you. The kid though, that’s new.” 

Bruce hummed and took another sip of his champagne. 

About nine months ago, billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne had surprised everyone in his social circle by taking in a child. This Wayne Foundation Gala was Dick’s debut into high-class society, and Bruce was proud to say he was charming the socks off of everyone he was introduced to. 

Ronnie’s gaze sharpened. “You do know what the gossip rags are saying, don’t you?”

Bruce sighed and swirled his glass. “Of course, I do. None of it is true.”

“But does he know that?” Bruce followed her gaze as she looked towards the group of kids. Dick caught his eye and grinned, excusing himself politely before heading towards Bruce. “I’ll leave you to it,” Ronnie whispered into his ear, trailing fingertips over his shoulders as she sashayed over to the bar.

Dick bounded around the groups of socialites. “Hey, B,” he greeted. “Having fun?” Bruce shot him a look, and Dick giggled. “You know,” the boy continued, “I think I saw Miss Vale interrogating Miss Ronnie’s husband a few minutes ago.” 

The billionaire scowled. “Dick,” he said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder and steering him towards a more secluded corner. “You know you’re not a charity case or a publicity stunt, right?”

Vicki had been uninvited from the press list after a particularly distasteful article. Her most recent piece had been about Bruce’s philanthropic works, with the Wayne Foundation Gala at the forefront. Normally, Bruce would’ve been thrilled that the news wasn’t about his eligibility as a bachelor, but the article had included his ward as a philanthropic effort.

Dick’s expression darkened. He looked down. “I know. I just… I know. Anyways, it doesn’t matter.” The boy brightened again. Grinning, he continued, “I’m gonna be your partner.”

“That you are.” Bruce gave a reassuring squeeze to Dick’s shoulder. “Soon.”

“Really!”

“Yeah, chum. Have you given any thought towards a name yet?”

“Actually, yeah, I—” 

Sharp cracks echoed through the air. Bruce pulled the boy into his chest, shielding him before the sound even registered as gunfire.

A dozen men stormed through the main entrance, waving around firearms and yelling for the party-goers to get on the ground. 

Another crack and one of the columns lost a large chunk of plaster. “I said get on the ground!” 

Winter wind whipped into the ballroom with a mournful howl.

Bruce, Dick, and the other stupefied socialites slowly followed the orders as the men fanned out. A final figure trailed in through the open door, crunching shattered glass underfoot.

Instead of black tactical gear like the other grunts wore, the tall figure was dressed in a pinstriped suit. He flipped a silver coin over the knuckles of his left hand. “Good evening!” he greeted, an ominous smile on the right side of his face. The left was burned crimson in a perpetual snarl. “Fine night for a party, am I right?”

When all he got in reply were a few strained whimpers, the man’s eyes flashed. A low thump echoed across the hall with each of his footfalls. “Everyone to the center of the room, now!” he ordered, and his men started to herd the straggling guests like cattle. 

Bruce needed to get out of here. Batman couldn’t save anyone as a hostage. 

He surveyed the exists. The kitchen door was his best bet since it was currently unguarded, but he needed to leave before the men came to collect the people in his corner. 

A bony finger poked his stomach, and Bruce looked down into Dick’s young face, hardened with conviction. The boy whispered, “I’ll cover you.” 

“Move,” the man collecting his cluster growled, punctuating his order with a shove of his gun. 

The billionaire watched as Dick trod on the end of some unlucky lady’s dress, sending her sprawling to the floor. The boy proceeded to apologize profusely and help her back to her feet. As the man grimaced and hauled Dick to the assembled socialites, Bruce skirted along the edge of the room, slipping between the shadows. 

The two-sided man scanned the huddled guests. “Alright, ladies and gents, here’s how we’re going to do things. You’re going to comply or you’re going to get shot. Easy, right?” He waved over one of his lackeys. “My friend over here is going to come around to all of you, and you’re going to give him your valuables. Wallets, phones, jewelry, watches, the whole shebang. And if you are skimpin’ out on me...” The man clicked his tongue, making a finger gun and pressing it to the nearest guest’s temple. “Bang! It’s a whole lot easier to steal from a corpse.”

The “friend” stepped into the crowd of guests with a rucksack and started to collect the treasures of the room. 

Bruce slid through the kitchen doors, making sure they didn’t swing. He hoped that Dick would be alright without him. 

The kitchen was deserted. Most likely, the staff had fled at the first gunshot. Dashing around the countertops, Bruce called the Batmobile to his location and turned on the emergency alert. Alfred would know what it meant. 

It was only three minutes and twenty seconds before he returned to the gala in full Batman regalia, but it felt like forever. Anything could’ve happened. 

Bruce could hear the resounding wail of a siren, still far off. He had about two more minutes until the police arrived. Gotham PD’s response time had gotten better since Gordon had become commissioner, but it was still severely lacking for emergencies. 

Climbing up the fire escape, Bruce slunk along the rooftop. He peered into the ballroom through the skylight. All the hostages were crowded directly beneath the glass, kept in place by guns revolving across the room. There were too many hostiles for Bruce to safely take on at once. He had to separate them. 

His cape fanned out as Bruce dropped back to ground level. Approaching the kitchen’s back entrance, he hacked into the door’s electronic lock before broaching the building. If he remembered correctly, the breaker box was somewhere nearby. 

He found the panel directly across from the pantry, tore the front open, and flipped every switch off. The room plunged into darkness. Screams came from the ballroom. This was his element. 

Bruce pulled the fire alarm and crept into the hall. Water from the overhead sprinklers slicked the polished floor. The shrieking alarm sent a pulse of red light flooding the room every few seconds. 

From there it was all too easy to pick off the grunts. 

With a hook to the ear, Bruce sent another body tumbling to the floor unconscious. A gun clattered across the tiles. The two-sided man was yelling out orders, but all organization was lost.

Blue light flashed with red as the Gotham police pulled up outside the building. 

The leader flipped the silver coin. He caught the coin in one palm and smacked it against the back of his other hand. He growled and shoved the coin back into his pocket. 

“Cover me, idiots!” 

The last few men standing increased their gunfire, now mindless of the hostages. Bruce ducked behind a pillar as bullets rained. As soon as it ceased and the heavy thump of thick-soled boots disappeared, Bruce grappled out of the shattered window to the adjacent building. 

There was no movement. Even the wind had turned into a whisper. Red and blue flashed on the street, and the fire alarm was still screeching. On any other night, Bruce would’ve left immediately to patrol Gotham for the criminal that destroyed his gala. But, there was a nine-year-old who needed him. From his perch on the rooftop, Bruce watched as the last of the socialites—the Vreelands, the Staggs, the McGinnises, Miss St. Cloud, and the young Mr. Hardwicke—stumbled out of the building.

The guards who were stationed as protection detail were escorted to the ambulances to be treated. Three had to be wheeled off on a gurney, and one was concealed under a white sheet. 

The building was empty. And Dick was still nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random Notes & Thoughts: 
> 
> Ronnie is a canon DC character from _Batman: The Animated Series_. No, I’ve never seen it, and her characterization is probably wrong, but I needed her. Also, the other people mentioned in this chapter are canon is some Batman franchise or another. 
> 
> I was really tempted to change that one sentence to “whorls of winter wind whipped into the room with a woeful whine,” but I thought that was too much alliteration. :P
> 
> Also, all of your questions will be answered in due time. *youtuber voice* Stick with me to find out! *finger guns*
> 
> Edit 3/15/21: Um, so I was checking this out this morning and realized that only like half the chapter was posted? EEK! So yeah, have a mini update, and here’s the rest!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all,
> 
> Welcome to my first semi-large project! Not going to lie, updates will be slow, but I _will_ get them out! I have 7 chapters, 2 interludes, and an epilogue in my outline, but that is definitely subject to change. (Maybe we’ll have 15 chapters. Who knows?)
> 
> This is based on the YJ ‘Verse, but I take a lot from other DC francises. 
> 
> Also, please don’t ask for updates, it gives me so much anxiety. 
> 
> Anyways, I'm super excited to get this out to you all, and I hope you like it:
> 
> Blanche


End file.
